Worker Bee
by GeekCheerleader
Summary: AU Sakura is a tragic girl in a tragic world. But, through the ashes of an apocalypse, can she rebuild a broken world? MultiSaku Sakucentric.


**Worker Bee**

**(So, yeah, this is an adaptation of a novel I've been working on. The novel's a lot of darkness and gore, and there are a few major differences—such as the main character's gender. This is bound to be pretty dark, especially considering the stuff I'm used to writing. Blasdgkjsgjerjgbd. I love you all.**

**Oh, and as you read, there are heavy implications of cannibalism. Only in this chapter. 3 And no one actually gets eaten, so no nagging, m'kay?)**

.:::. Flash Forward

Really, it was only logical that we would die here, surrounded by the bleak ice and bitter cold, our enemies waiting tensely for the frostbite to settle in and abruptly end our short lives. It was pitiable, in a way; we had never completed our quest for Naruto, let alone Temari. Gaara, a feral glare looking up from his orange tinted Sno-Goggles, was shivering in a mixture of cold and rage. While the Soldier Bees had arguably provided enough gear for the cold to not entirely numb you, it ensured that you were eternally cold.

I, without my goggles, could only last an hour or so, at most. My cheeks were already numbing, my eyelashes caked in the Badland's ghostly touch. Frost tinged at my vision, and I could only stare with a pathetic envy at the girl holding the key to my survival.

Karin smiled, the crease visible from the edge of her own goggles, and waved my pair through the air in a taunting, torturous manner. She knew I was dead without them._ I_ knew I was dead without them. However, I'd promised Gaara that I would help find his sister. And I, in good mind and consciousness, could not allow the crafty group of Colonists before us prevent the rescue of Temari. An enemy to be feared is certainly one with nothing to fear. Shikamaru must have told me that once, a long time ago. In all likelihood, even if we were to escape, we would never find Temari anyway. We had come all the way to the Badlands to simply find Naruto, and even she has eluded us throughout our perilous journey.

"Karin, what the hell are you doing?" Sasuke, a tall, imposing boy about my age, managed to snarl. He was a Sector One kid, bluntly made obvious by his distinct appearance. His eyes, through what I could see of his goggles, seemed obsidian, "They just wanted the dobe; we're not people eaters. I'll have none of that in this Colony."

Moegi, a girl that stuck to Sasuke like a shadow, eagerly bobbed her head in agreement, "We can't eat people! I won't!" She was a tiny, underfed shell of a twelve year old girl, with the same foreign disposition as Sasuke. Presumably, they'd known each other before arriving in this wasteland. Poising her gloved hands on her hips, she stuck her nose in the air as an act of righteous defiance.

Orochimaru stepped forward, clutching a crudely sharpened spear in his hands. He was the oldest of them all, over fifty at least. Bees had a much shorter life expectancy around these parts. His shoulders were slumped, his back deformed, a telltale sign of a being who had survived here for a long while. Those who have usually don't die easily. Kabuto followed suit, a horrifying sight in itself. Kabuto was perhaps a few years older than me, and yet killing was a heritage he'd eagerly adopted from his natural-father.

"Oh, don't speak like that, Sasuke," Karin's words were hushed, full of contempt, her fiery red hair hanging limp in front of piercing eyes, overwhelmed by the orange goggles. The white hood covered the majority of it, though it remained brittle and unkempt. She shook her head slowly, "You don't understand; you've only been here a short two months. You haven't seen the starvation, and what happens when the animals are few and far between. We need the food. You," she looked at him imploringly, trying to be seductive, "wouldn't want us all to starve, would you?" It was nearly inconceivable to me that a group of people could be so accustomed to killing and eating innocent people out of hunger that it had become second nature to them. Where were their scruples, their morals, their beliefs, their ethics, their sense of welfare for the good of the common man? How could one stoop so low as to eat a fellow Worker Bee? I knew the answer, of course. We had no morals anymore. Those died a thousand years ago, along with the old world. The Badlands were, in addition, no man's land. Anyone who had ever been sent here had never returned; you either died now or died later. There was no escape, no freedom, and certainly no brotherhood.

"I won't let you, you know," Sasuke retorted, his upper lip curled in disgust, "I won't let you slaughter Naruto's friends like cattle." Sasuke had earlier told us of how they'd met Naruto; he was a nomad in these parts, sharing whatever he had with anyone who needed it. It was a very Naruto-styled way to live. It was a wonder he had yet to die. And yet, knowing Naruto, it was nearly impossible to think he _could_ die. Orochimaru had said that this was his longest route yet. He usually returned about every two weeks to offer something, everything, but it had been over five weeks since his last visit. Surely, this Colony wasn't the only one that had resorted to people-eating. Perhaps we had come too late to save my old friend. The thought of Naruto's simplistic smile being gone forever was too much to bear. Had I eaten anything in the last few days, I may have vomited. As it is, I couldn't afford to lose any bile, so I forced it down.

"Don't make me restrain you, Sasuke. You're a good disciple of mine," despite Orochimaru's words, his steady, velvet smooth voice seemed to imply that the man would be perfectly fine with a slaughtering. In a sick sense, perhaps it meant more food for their palates and less people to share it with.

It seemed like an eternity, though I knew it was only a matter of seconds, until someone made the first move. Sasuke lunged for Orochimaru, a dagger pulled free from his boot and aimed to rise upwards, low to high, for the man's chest. That's when the unthinkable happened.

Kabuto jumped in the way.

.:::.

There was the sickening sound of the stab, the soft sound of the blade finding a host within the young man. The stench of blood—the pure, unfiltered, rusty smell that a slow death pertained to—filled the ice cavern in which the Colony had made its home. Pure snow was permanently stained with his death. Shock etched into Sasuke's face; he hadn't meant to hurt Kabuto. He probably hadn't even truly meant to hurt Orochimaru. The thrust had been low, prone to hitting nothing but his knees or a chunk of muscle. Missing the mark had made all the difference. Sasuke may or may not have been the violent sort, but now his hands were forever stained. The Hive had beseeched the vitality of yet another soul, deep into the very recesses of the soil.

For a moment, there was silence. With an animalistic, grief filled cry for his son, Orochimaru darted forth, plunging the spear towards Moegi, an innocent bystander to the event. Brief recognition flickered through the child's mellow eyes, and she darted to the side, panicked.

Using the distraction, and silently thankful that Moegi was okay, I yanked Gaara towards the mouth of the cave. Spying an orange object, left in the snow, I clumsily scooped it up. My body brimmed with agonizingly sweet relief. The object had been my goggles, the ones that Karin had presumably dropped to go avenge her comrade. I heard Sasuke's rage filled cries, and a thud, but I sure as hell wasn't looking back now.

I plowed through the snow with reckless abandonment, only interested in escaping the icy prison my captors fought in. Gaara stumbled alongside me, my grip tight on the white sleeve of his Sno-suit. Thankfully, the fight for a Sno-suit had gone well for both of us. Had we not been granted these, the cold would've kindly invited us to the landscape, lulling us into a peaceful slumber from which we would've been fated to never awaken from.

Forcing the goggles back onto my face, I immediately relieve the icy pressure from my cheeks. If there was anything the Soldier Bees were good for, it was designing clothing that would keep a Bee alive in harsher conditions than these. After all, the Moon Project would have to remain in effect somehow.

I thought of the virgin snow, now rendered filthy with the bloodlust of those who had tried the kill me, and the reminder of those who have failed to defend themselves from that very same enemy.

"Sakura," a shrill voice hissed, and I turned to see the rage-glazed eyes of the girl who had nearly succeeded in killing me, "Where do you think you're going?" Gaara let out a grunt of annoyance, making a point to step in front of me as we faced Karin.

I'd thought enough for the moment. "Out of my way, Gaara," in life and death situations like these, my analysis was not enough, "This is my fight." Now was not the time for thinking. Now was the time for action. With that final thought, I dashed forward utterly absorbed in the kill-or-be-killed situation.

.:::.

**(Haha. This really is nothing like how I actually wrote this. But, I mean, it's been forever since I've posted on FF, so I figured I owe you guys something. O.O Even though this isn't an update of my old stuff. Which I promise. Eventually. As soon as I'm happy with it. So yeah, I put up a poll asking what I should update and I write something new. Ginny logic. BUT I WILL UPDATE. DON'T CRY. YOU CAN THROW THINGS AT ME IF IT WILL MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER.**

**So yeah, this is a lot sadder in my actually book, where Kabuto's a six year old.)**


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